Aliases are alternative forms of a reference. They can include actual aliases for characters, nicknames, plural variations, gendered versions of some [Classes], and even typos.
No, fifth place was for Lord Hayvon. He was no Tyrion Veltras, rumored to be the best [Lord] in personal combat, or Lord Imor Seagrass, the self-styled [Stormlord Captain] who ruled over much of the sea with his vast armies that ensured trade. Lord Hayvon was simply a [Lord] in service to the Blighted King of Rhir.
Lord Admiral Seagrass. He stood on the deck of the largest ship in the fleet. Smiling like steel. His trimmed beard, his precise, almost flamboyant but also military dress and his words all added to his appearance. Each syllable was clipped and clear.
The 4th Most Powerful [Lord] in the world, as named by the popular book by Krsysl Wordsmith, was Lord Imor Seagrass, the [Stormlord Captain] and leader of [Storm Sailor] fleets.
One of the things he had in plenty were pacts, trade negotiations. One even with Magnolia Reinhart herself to ensure a steady supply of sugar to her lands. He’d gotten the worst of that deal, but Imor Seagrass was a rich man.
Imor Seagrass roared. Which was funny because for all he was a ‘[Stormlord Captain]’, and his fleets were crewed by [Storm Sailors] as opposed to [Pirates] or Drowned Folk, he had been known to be just as opportunistic when it came to rival [Merchants] and enemy fleets.
Rasea was swerving her ship left and right, avoiding long-range artillery spells. The damned siege weapons that she’d looted off House of Minos ships that Imor Seagrass had wanted for his own fleets for years had taken down the mast of one of his vessels and inflicted light casualties on another, but it was a running battle over the last two hours as he tried to box her in.
The speed of Imor’s fleet slowed. He stared at the distant ship…no, the ship closing on them. How fast was it going? Then he felt the same thing Rasea had felt.
Rasea spun the wheel of her ship desperately, but the [Frost Geyser] still blasted her ship. Imor laughed—right up until he saw a [Fireball] volley hit one of his ships.
The [Pirate] grinned, making as if to turn her ship. Imor snarled, turning back, weighing the odds of seizing a Citadel-class ship. They could hold thousands of [Sailors], but he had nine ships and the most famous [Pirate] might join him. Of course, the Pride of the Wellfar could hold countless more [Soldiers] and double as a transport. But aside from two ships in the distance, he didn’t see…
